


There's a Dog Barking in the Shed Out Back

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Collars, Forced Eye Contact, Implied/Referenced Torture, Incest, Knifeplay, M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay uses his father's shed for something. Roose is less than pleased. Ramsay tries to change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Dog Barking in the Shed Out Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nanjcsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/gifts).



"There's a dog barking in the shed out back."

Roose said this as if its entirely consequential. Ramsay didn't even look up from the movie playing on cable TV.

"My shed," his father added, stepping in front of the image of a platinum haired man moping in a ruin. 

Roose's shape was lean, almost unnatural looking, back lit by the blue glow of the TV in the dark. He'd told Ramsay a thousand times to not go in his shed, that it's even more important than not going in the basement, but there wasn't anything that special in there when Ramsay broke in. He'd been hoping there would be some cool knives, he knew his father had skinning knives somewhere in the house, but it was remarkably boring.

"It's not like you were using it," Ramsay groaned. His father's hand moved to the power button of the TV. A brief click, and the room went silent. Roose became blended and undefined, the room light-less except for the sickly yellow wedge that sprawled towards them from the kitchen.

Roose let out a long sigh, and Ramsay found himself suddenly on edge. It wasn't like his father would actually _do_ anything to his only son. That's what he'd been telling himself all this time at least. His father seemed almost close to being mad. Seeing him angry was weirdly exciting. It was annoying the way he always pretended not to feel anything.

Ramsay's breath hitched as his father stepped closer to him, the mix of discomfort and heat growing in his stomach. Roose loomed over him. Ramsay hadn't quite meant to spread his legs, but having his father between them only added to his anticipation. He half hoped Roose would hit him, if only so he could hold it against him later. Ramsay was clearly already a failure at this point, so he might as well try to get something out of it.

"There's noise, Ramsay. Are you really so stupid, that I must explain why that's a problem?" Roose continued.  Ramsay ground his teeth a bit.

"You didn't touch him did you?" Ramsay asked, suddenly worried. He hadn't even considered that his father might have wanted his project for himself.

Roose shook his head at the question.

"Your dog needs a gag. Come with me."

When Roose pulled back. Ramsay wasn't sure if he should be more scared, jealous, or excited.

\---

Ramsay stood behind as his father opened the shed. He'd made him give back the spare key he'd found, and brought a bit gag with him from Others knew where. It felt like his dad had secrets buried all over the house. Ramsay frowned for a moment, shouldn't he be sharing stuff like that with his son?

Roose flicked the light switch looked over the bound body Ramsay had left there. He clicked his tongue briefly as Theon groaned, wincing and turning away from the light source. He squirmed towards Roose, his eyes winced shut and hands still bound as when Ramsay left him. He'd stolen some of the spare zip ties from the school computer labs with his new pet in mind. 

"Mr. Bolton....? Is that you...? I--" Theon mumbled.

Ramsay wanted to snap that he was here too. His should be paying attention to his new master first and foremost, but the palm of his father's hand was already hovering in front of his mouth. Theon gasped as Roose placed his shoe over the recently mutilated stump of his finger.

"Come in and close the door behind you," Roose ordered, looking back over his shoulder to Ramsay.

Ramsay obeyed, his throat clenching. That was his work his father was stepping on --his hands. He had made Reek. Not his father.

Theon's cries turned to a low whimper as Roose pulled his foot away. It was a bit crowded with three people, but the fact that Roose kept it so clean helped it feel less so. There were locked white cabinets Ramsay had tried to crack to no avail, and a few empty tool hooks. It smelled a bit like brine and chemicals with an undertone of sulfur.

Roose knelt down to where Theon lay, looking briefly back to see that Ramsay had obliged. Theon's eyes went wide as he grabbed him by the hair and forced the gag into his mouth.

"This is my shed and my house, and as such the things I find in them are my things. Do you understand that Ramsay?" Roose asked flatly. Theon struggled in his arms briefly, before making a soft resigned noise. Roose clearly paid it little mind, flipping him over and finishing the task with little effort.

Seeing Theon so easily bent and over-powered sent a pulse of heat straight from Ramsay's stomach to his groin, even as jealously twisted inside him. Why didn't he give in like that for him? Why was everything so easy for his father?

Had it been just as easy when he took Ramsay similarly? Was this all he was to him? Ramsay had come willingly when his father beckoned him to bed. He thought it would change something. All he had gotten was sent back to his own bed with his father's seed between his legs.

Roose pulled Theon up with him, yanking him by the hair. It was like Theon weighed nothing.

"Don't. He's mine, dad. Just don't," Ramsay snarled, unthinking.

Roose ignored his interjection, drawing and flicking open his knife. His father preferred the clean cuts of a plain edge. Roose pressed his thigh between Theon's legs and gripped him by the collar Ramsay had left on him, forcing his back against the sharp edge of the cabinet. Theon made a muffled noise again, pressing his bound hands against Roose's chest uselessly. 

"Your cuts are jagged. There are better ways to break in an animal," Roose commented, beginning to cut off the buttons of Theon's shirts. "Now be a proper son and pick those up."

Ramsay grunted. Theon's chest was littered with cuts and a few cigarette burns he'd left recently. He liked leaving those after they finished, just to make sure he knew who he belonged to now. He picked up the buttons anyway. Maybe if he did his father wouldn't go as far.

"Come on, dad. Just lay off him. You can do stuff with me instead," Ramsay tried, extending a handful of black buttons towards his father. He tentatively reached for his father's hips and brushed his lips against his father's ear, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "I know what you like, daddy."

Roose shrugged his hips away from Ramsay's touch. Ramsay dropped his arms to his side frustratedly. He should have just left Reek in his room like he initially thought. Everything had become a mess. He should have cut out his tongue. Maybe he'd do it later when his dad wasn't around.

"If I wanted your mouth, I would have had you on your knees in the living room. Stop making a fool of yourself and pay attention," Roose replied. Ramsay's cheeks burned.

His father's finger dug into Theon's neck as he forced their eyes to meet. Theon went limp at it. Roose didn't even cut him at first, he simply brushed the knife over Theon's bear chest, stopping to probe at the soft spot just below his rib's. Theon squirmed as Roose drew the tip of his knife idly back and forth over his belly. The heave of Theon's chest grew rapidly faster as Roose's knife drew closer to the flat of his groin.

Ramsay bit his lip as Roose looked down to where the knife was held against Theon's stomach then back up to Theon's wide eyes. Roose's mouth flicked into smile as he tugged Theon closer. A red drop pooled around the tip of his blade and Ramsay held his breath. He had to do something. His heart was in his throat.

"I'm sorry, dad," he blurted out. "I'm sorry I used your shed and didn't ask. I'm sorry I disrespected you."

The words fell out in a jumble, but just as quick as he had said it, his father let Theon drop unceremoniously.

"All I ask is for you to listen to and obey me," Roose said, stepping back. Theon looked to the two of them with dread. Ramsay wanted to move to his side, but he'd already embarrassed himself enough today.

Roose wiped clean and pocketed his knife in a single fast motion.

"Yes, sir," Ramsay grumbled. He was relieved, but still half hard from everything.

"You can keep him in the basement, if you take care of him. Don't make a mess of my house. Especially _my_ work place," Roose continued, looking outside the shed before leaving. Ramsay nodded, dragging Theon along with them.

Roose looked over the two of them when they reached the door to the basement. Ramsay wasn't sure what exactly was happening now, but he looked tired.

"Your games have wearied me, Ramsay. When you're done with him, you'll see to my leeching," Roose sighed.

Ramsay smiled as he headed downstairs with Theon. His father still needed him.


End file.
